Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
by itzalliballi
Summary: They hate Christmas. The cheer, the gifts, all of it. But sometimes, the things you hate can bring unexpected surprises. Enjoy.


The cafeteria was built for food. To give the families of the sick a place to eat while the patient is sick. It is NOT for parties or celebrations or some disturbing need to hug everyone you've ever passed in the hall and give a gift to a person's name you grabbed out of a stocking that you never plan to talk to- ever. Who the hell is Lydia Henley? Why would I want to buy her a gift, I don't even know her! I don't even feel sorry. Oh. I think I found her. She looks sad. Wait, maybe that's a patient? Damn. I was kind of proud for a minute. Did I mention that I hate Christmas? I'm freaking Jewish! I don't do Christmas. I don't even freaking do Hanukkah. Like I can afford to buy someone that many gifts! Yeah RIGHT!

No one can possibly be as happy as they look, right? I mean, honestly, this is clearly some form of foreign torture. The Chief isn't even freaking here! What a load of crap! No one will even notice I'm gone. And where the hell is Meredith? If she is having sex, I'm going to be royally pissed off. I should be having sex. Not Meredith. Meredith has had enough sex. The sex smile she has needs to go away. It makes me a little nauseous. Why did Karev get to work tonight? I would have totally taken his shift. But then again, that'd mean he'd have to take Lexie somewhere beside his bedroom, which would just be.. what was it? Stupid? Nice Alex!

I guess I should be happy there aren't any mistletoes here. If I had some strange guy come try to kiss me just because of some stupid plant thing, he would get castrated awake with a surgical knife. A dirty one. A disease infested unsanitized dirty scalpel. I would enjoy it.

What I really want to know is where the hell is my gift? See. This is why I don't do these functions. If I would have bought something, it would have pissed me off because then I'd feel like a loser because I actually spent money on someone and no one got me a freaking thing. Cheap-Os! At least I have an excuse! I'M JEWISH! What is their damn excuse, huh? That's what I want to know!

I hate Christmas.

Everyone is so bright and cheery, happily drinking egg nog and looking ridiculous in Santa hats. There was only one person who seemed disgusted by the whole affair. Cristina Yang was lurking in the corner, glaring at a trail of sparkly tinsel that was dangerously close to her hair. She looked to be the only sane person worth having a conversation with at the moment. Everyone else was glassy eyed and giggling.

Christmas cheer is like some awful disease. It takes hold, shows all the colorful symptoms, then once it's out of your system is just leaves you drained and worse for wear. This is why I've made sure I'm immune to the epidemic that is Christmas cheer.

"Yang," I said in greeting, leaning on the wall beside her, "Shame about the lack of mistletoe overhead," I indicate upwards with my eyes. I didn't expect her to take me seriously, since I wasn't being serious, but nevertheless her reaction stung a little.

She looked me up and down, eyes raking my body. But then she had smirked, "I actually think it's my saving grace."

Ouch.

"You want me." I grin, fighting the pang in my chest at her comment.

"Dream on, Sloan." She rolls her eyes at me, but I can tell she wants to look. I work hard for this. She can look.

"So why exactly do you look like you were ransomed to come here?" I ask her, finding myself actually interested in her response.

"I'm Jewish." I realize immediately that she's serious but I can't help but laugh. It is pretty humorous that Richard just assumed everyone celebrated Christmas.

"So no secret Santa for you?" I asked, trying to hide my amusement as I looked around for the poor soul without a gift.

"Why would I do that?" She asks, and I nod in agreement, it is silly to spend money on Christmas. "What about you?" She asks once she realizes I'm not going to offer anything.

"I've got you." I grin, wiggling my eyebrows only just enough for her to realize what her present is.

"Do I get a surgery!?" She asks, finally looking excited for the first time all night.

"No Yang. You don't get a surgery." I shake my head, not even wanting to hit on her anymore. Wow. Since when was surgery better than sex?

"Then what... oooh!" A look of recognition filters her face, and I can't help but laugh. I watch in complete amusement as she actually blushes!

"So what do ya say?"

"You know, I always thought you'd be excellent at picking up women. But you aren't. You kind of suck. I'm disappointed." She sighs, and I can't help but gasp. Again! Another insult! What the hell is going on!

"If you don't want your gift, you don't have to have it!" I mutter, turning around to walk away. There's a nurse in the corner who's already tried to pick me up, twice tonight. I'm sure she'll suffice. Surely the strike is over. Well, at least I know not ALL of the nurses were in on it.

What nerve! Who do I look like? Meredith? Okay. So that was kind of mean. Even Meredith didn't sleep with Sloan, but seriously. She's the dark and twisty one. I'm not dark and twisty. I'm just smart. Not even cynical. Okay. Maybe a little cynical. But I'm a firm believer that cynicism is completely justified, healthy even. And when it comes to guys like Mark Sloan, well you're just downright stupid if you aren't. Yes. That's right. I said it. Mark Sloan is a whore. But really, he must be awfully good at it since he's slept with like every nurse, and they are STILL drooling over him. Have some self respect. They are practically standing guard underneath the mistletoes waiting for him to walk by and notice. Believe me, he would notice.. if he cared! Or maybe he only notices lack there of. Damn him.

Where the hell is Meredith at anyway? Seriously. This is just ridiculous. They spend half of the time they are awake having sex! This is not jealousy, this is just disturbance! Fine. If she isn't coming, then I am leaving. No one will even notice I am gone. Except maybe Mark .Maybe! If he hasn't found his next victim yet. Yes, I said victim. Maybe a night wouldn't be so bad. I mean really, it's Christmas. It's all about giving right? Something about the Wise Men? You know, I don't know the stories exactly, but I don't see how traveling long distances makes you wise! But whatever, that's just me.

"Goin' somewhere?" Mark asks with a grin as I leave the floor of the cafeteria, both of my feet planted firmly on the first step. I twist around just enough to meet his eyes, and I can't help but wonder why he is just standing by the stairwell. Probably to pick up the first loser that leaves alone. Hey. I am NOT a loser. I did not try to get laid here. Perv. Why can't he just make one of his love slaves a happy girl and take her home for the night? Probably doesn't want to have to remember their name. Ass.

"What's it to you?" I ask, a challenging smirk on my face, almost daring him to prove a point. He might get lucky after all. There's something incredibly applaud-worthy about his persistence. Yes, I will still be stone faced in appearance, but I'd be lying if I said he wasn't slowly chiseling away at my wall.

"I could join you." He offered, and although by that point, I was ready to grab him by the face and have him right there, I looked away instead, as if observing my other options. As if I wanted anyone else in the room. I smile to myself as I overlook him completely, setting my eyes solely on the steps in front of me, leading my path out of this place.

I'm halfway down the hall to the exit before I hear the steps behind me, but I still don't turn around. It doesn't really matter whether he follows me or not, I'm going to bed. With a smile on my face, I allow the door to be opened for me.


End file.
